]]>I am an elementary school teacher. I have participated in hundreds of parent-teacher interviews, but I’ve never had an experience like the one portrayed in Jordi Mand’s Between the Sheets! Oh sure, when I walked into the Small World Centre at Artscape Youngplace, I was transported into what could have been any elementary classroom anywhere in this city or province. I admired the set designer’s attention to detail – the name tags on the desks and the artwork hanging all looked like a grade 3 student’s work. I could relate to Teresa, played by Rafaela Lewis, as she puttered around the room straightening the chairs and updating the blackboard for the coming day.

Enter Marion. Portrayed by Jorie Morrow, Marion is the mother that every teacher wants to avoid. She’s condescending, treating Teresa like a child, dismissing the teacher’s expertise in her profession. She’s domineering, insisting that marks are more important than her son’s progress and university should be a priority… in grade 3! Worst of all, she shows up without an appointment, delaying Teresa’s exit after a long day of work and interviews. It’s easy to hate Marion. She’s the antagonist in this story, or is she?

As truths unfold, I can see the place of pain where Marion is coming from. Morrow depicts a woman struggling to manage her career, and do what she feels is best for her family. She spends evenings on conference calls and weekends at the office, all in the name providing for her family. Her husband, Curtis, is “never satisfied” and her son, Alex, has apparent learning and behavioural issues at home and at school. Her relationship with him is “wonderful, complicated, horrific.”

These two women take the audience on a roller coaster of emotions as they process their complicated relationship. As the story develops, there are tender moments where the two women connect over their pain and loss, voices are lowered, tears are shed.

Between the Sheets tells a story that is not new, yet it doesn’t seem repetitive. The excellent dialogue and acting are engaging, emotional. The tension that it created was not shed quickly. Like so many issues in life, there was no true resolution to Teresa and Marion’s conflict. They are left picking up the pieces of their ruined lives. The audience is left asking ‘Where will they go from here?’.

]]>Bobby Del Rio’s Power Strugglehttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/11/power-struggle/
Thu, 15 Nov 2018 21:46:17 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43721Writer/director Bobby Del Rio’s ambitious attempt to take on the ever-relevant themes of rape and trauma is an admirable undertaking with an uneven execution. Del Rio points out in the …

]]>Writer/director Bobby Del Rio’s ambitious attempt to take on the ever-relevant themes of rape and trauma is an admirable undertaking with an uneven execution.

Del Rio points out in the programme that you might assume this piece was written in response to #MeToo. In fact, he wrote the first draft six years ago. The script traces the story of Charlene (Adriana Villi), an enterprising CEO struggling with the traumatic aftermath of rape and its reverberations within both her personal and professional life.

We see her interactions with Rick (Jsin Sasha), an undermining employee and ex-lover, her husband Jack (Rico Garcia), a loving partner, and her therapist (Sonia Suvagau). We also witness her intermittent and intrusive flashbacks to her rapist (Philip Shipley). These scenes weave together to reveal larger, significant truth: trauma of this kind is never ‘in the past’ as some would claim, but viscerally and violently present to survivors.

Villi carries the play capably, particularly given the emotional extremes she portrays. The trauma flashbacks are portrayed indirectly, with Villi and Shipley on opposite sides of the stage, and the result is much more viscerally effective than if they’d attempted to show it directly. The dream sequences involve music and dance and are emotionally engaging, giving us a palpable sense of the intensity and confusion she continuously experiences. Sasha and Suvagau in particular commit enthusiastically to the campy physicality involved in these scenes, with charming results.

The script would benefit from significant pruning of repetitive dialogue and extended dream/romance sequences. Yet for this play to really flourish, it needs more character-based complexity. Rick is an insecure former lover whose current attempts to undermine her seem arrogant and inept, so it’s unclear why he poses a threat. And while Rico Garcia plays Jack’s straightforward affection with credible sincerity, I needed more of the emotional history woven into their current dynamic. As it stands, the play hits many loud, intense notes, and several softer ones, but not much in between, where the interesting stuff really lies. Finally, the concluding scene between Charlene and her therapist suggests not just an unrealistic but potentially undermining conclusion to those who suffer daily with the aftermath of trauma.

The narrative offers a simplistic journey, and while I can appreciate the hope underscoring such a tidy conclusion, a better catharsis would emerge from a script that acknowledges the turbulent and fluctuating reality of survivors, and the resilience that nevertheless exists within it.

]]>Australian touring company Circa has graced Toronto’s stage again, and we loved it. Artistic Director Yaron Lifschitz’s newest creation, HUMANS, gives everyone a little of what they want. There were gasps and applause at amazing circus feats from the audience, reverential silence in awe, some giggles, and overall the feeling of amazement. I stand by the idea that those who appreciate contemporary circus the most are those of us in that world – that understand how intensely difficult moving through a reverse-meathook is. While the greater audience may appreciate the beauty, it is difficult to understand just how much time and effort goes into these artists’ skills if you yourself have not worked day in and day out at the same. I must commend each and every artist on the stage at the Sony Centre for their passion, hard work, and dedication to their craft.

I was thrilled to be able to see this show, as I had seen Circa perform back in 2014. I was looking forward to seeing what difference, if any, four years could have on a company already so highly regarded. I found HUMANS to be fluid and clear, absolutely polished, and a lovely performance. In the past, I had found the skill of the individuals to be top-level, but there were moments left wanting, energetically, and not enough unison moments to give the show a feeling of togetherness. In HUMANS, we really see the force of the group as a whole, which was an absolute treat. The artists pair off in duets or solos, but the moments of greatest effect are when the group moves as one. Daring tumbling passes and intricate choreography brings all artists together and the true impact and talent of the troupe can really be seen. They move cat-like through the space, absorbing the floor and twisting in deliciously unexpected ways. I was so impressed at how some of the artists could perform their intense acrobatics with hardly a sound of hand or foot hitting the stage.

The theme of this show, what it really means to be human and how we can push our physical boundaries absolutely shone through the movement. How or who we can depend on to assist or carry us through our lives was demonstrated in playful games, almost child-like, of keep-off-the-floor. How far can a body travel through space, and in what creative ways, without using the ground in assistance? How much can a body bear, and where do our limitations lie? The artists push themselves to such beautiful heights, and showcase a massive range of dynamics, humour, stillness, tenderness, power, and joy. The piece is composed beautifully, ebbing and flowing at just the right moments to give interlude or to push the audience farther and farther. My only complaint would be a lack of a little introduction- the show begins with such a powerful punch, there isn’t really a moment where the audience is able to settle in and be introduced to the artists and the feel of the show.

Overall, I was impressed and pleased with Circa’s most recent production. The group is near flawless, and the show is crafted with care and intensity. Bodies were shown off in incredible skill, and the performance makes me hopeful and happy for the future of contemporary circus. I thank the company for their massive tour, and know that while audiences may not be quite ready for such beautiful contemporary circus, that we definitely need it in our lives.

]]>A George F Walker Double Bill at The Assemblyhttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/11/inside-kill/
Tue, 06 Nov 2018 20:37:38 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43695Two small, run-down apartments are the settings for two new George F. Walker plays, which taken together complete his Parkdale Palace Trilogy (begun with last year’s The Chance, which I …

]]>Two small, run-down apartments are the settings for two new George F. Walker plays, which taken together complete his Parkdale Palace Trilogy (begun with last year’s The Chance, which I must confess to not having seen), which are being staged at the Assembly Theatre in a double bill. Put on by Low Rise Productions and Leroy Street Theatre and supported by The Storefront Theatre, each play has a different director and cast, but (with a few changes in furnishing aside), the set remains mostly the same in each, with Walker using both works to pit lower and lower-middle class characters against the spectre of both institutional oppression and their own particular foibles.

Violet (Catherine Fitch) lives alone in a Parkdale apartment, receiving regular visits only from her grown-up daughter Maddy (Lesley Robertson) and psychotherapist supervisor Cathy (Sarah Murphy-Dyson). Initially it appears this mandated supervision is a result of a mental illness which requires that Violet be regularly checked in on; she is chatty and eccentrically energetic despite suffering from high anxiety along with a near-intolerance of loud noises and other stressful stimuli. We soon learn however that Violet is living under house arrest for a grizzly crime that puts the question of her stability and ability to comprehend the world around her under the microscope.

Like Violet herself, the tone of Andrea Wasserman’s production is pitched high, a black comedy with a fairly soft edge. Fitch guides the show with her flintily commanding and charming performance, slightly broad like the play itself, but endearing all the same. The show’s best moments however are the ones where both it and the performances are able to take a breather – an exchange between mother and daughter on the couch where they quietly express how much they love each other is beautifully done. Murphy-Dyson and Robertson both do strong work as different facets of Violet’s fragile support system, and a fun Tony Munch as a thought-to-be-dead relative is appropriately boorish and incensed. Wasserman keeps the cast in constant motion within Walker’s relatively short scenes, and while I wish the overall energy (a lot of shouting) could have been allowed a little bit more nuance for the intimate Assembly space, the play’s more farcical tendencies obviously encourage a slightly more frenetic tone.

The play seems to reach a climax about twenty minutes before it ends, but then the final section nicely complicates Violet’s apparent triumph and validation with the day-to-day reality of living with her illness, closing on a straightforward but human note that confirms the intimate bond shared between the three women, with both blood relatives and an outside helper coming together to form a makeshift family. Overall I think the text could be a little more elegant in its structure and examination of the issues it wants to discuss, but Walker’s unapologetic reliance on cliff-hanger scene endings, hyperactive deliveries of exposition and central characters you just have to root for is charming in its own right.

In Kill the Poor, all these motifs come together to make an overall more successful though still slightly sitcom-y piece of social theatre. Chris Bretechner smart stage design removes Violet’s coffee table and books from his earlier set and replaces them with a much less elegant table. A small TV and a Buffy the Vampire Slayer poster have also materialized. It’s a simple but effective way of introducing a new set of characters who live in the same apartment building as Violet, while illustrating their distinct situations.

Lacey (Anne van Leeuwen) has recently been involved in a car crash that has left her arm broken and her brother dead. She appears to be unable to remember exactly whether or not it was she or her brother who was driving, though she feels certain that it was not she who ran a light but the other driver. With the support of her equally unemployed husband Jake (Craig Henderson), she wrangles with the police and threatening mob forces in an attempt to escape being charged with reckless driving, as the spectre of complete poverty (or murder) hangs over the couple.

Anne van Leeuwen gives the best performance of the double-bill as Lacey, spontaneous and reactive to everyone around her, creating a hard-nosed but increasingly and plausibly distressed blue-collar heroine. Henderson is well-matched as Jake, funny and slightly ungainly in a nice counterpoint to Lacey’s determined grounded-ness. Chandra Galasso does strong, sympathetic work as an investigating police officer, and Al Bernstein is cooly menacing as the driver of the other car with ominous connections to the crime world. Ron Lea is also a folksy highlight as the perfect Walker supporting character, a disbarred lawyer-turned-handyman who manages to help resolve both basic household problems and massive legal issues encountered by the couple. The plot, though sometimes a little confusing, is propulsive and entertaining, and given good pacing by director Wes Berger, though some scenes are a little static in their staging.

Taken together, this double-bill offers a fairly unchallenging but sympathetic and humorous glance at the lives of the strangers of our city, and while it is not the most nuanced glance imaginable, it is one of the more charming and endearing.

]]>Pickle Jar by Maddie Rice at Soho Theatrehttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/11/pickle-jar/
Tue, 06 Nov 2018 20:25:08 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43696After a run at the Edinburgh Fringe, Maddie Rice brings her comedic one woman show Pickle Jar, directed and developed by Katie Pesskin, to the Soho Theatre in London and …

After a run at the Edinburgh Fringe, Maddie Rice brings her comedic one woman show Pickle Jar, directed and developed by Katie Pesskin, to the Soho Theatre in London and delivers a skillful and hilarious performance. Rice successfully establishes the world of her main character, known only as Miss, as well as cleverly portraying all the rest of the characters. With skilled, professional acting, as well as a tight comedic script with a clever twist, Pickle Jar draws big laughs from the audience. The only downside is that some of the contrasting emotional reveals seem to get lost in the jumbled timeline.

Pickle Jar tells the tale of a young, shy English teacher attempting to teach, but also bond with her young impressionable students, whilst at the same time navigating the twenty-something world of Tinder, nights out, ex-boyfriends, and slightly odd flatmates. After the death of one of her students sends her into a downward spiral, we see the teacher struggling with feelings of grief and guilt, that all lead back to the memory of one sinister event.

The main strength to this production is clearly Rice’s acting prowess and ability to deliver comedic one-liners with impeccable timing. Playing the main role as a slightly geeky, middle-class English teacher, which one could argue is a cliché comedy role, Rice consistently delivers laugh-out-loud moments with clever, relatable one-liners about her life, and humorous self-confessions. Her moves from character to character are also extremely slick, with the highlight being her Irish flatmate Moiread, whose unique take on life and metaphoric advice provides a nice dose of surreal humour. Being able to jump from character to character, with comedic theatricality keeps you on your toes and creates a world that feels three-dimensional and real.

Rice is also clearly a talented writer and the play’s script has some wonderful lines, including realistic dialogue that makes the characters come alive, yet also gives them the ability to deliver emotional blows. The audience doesn’t seem to see the final twist coming, which although alluded to throughout the latter half of the play, is finally revealed in an emotional monologue that demonstrates Rice’s talented acting range.

However, the few downsides to this production are that throughout the play there are lots of subtle references to the final twist that are often lost or lack impact as the story jumps back and forth in time. For instance, the main character’s descent into alcoholism and subsequent emotional outbursts that subtly allude to the twist are often just seen as comedic interludes as the story jumps back and forth between boozy nights out and classroom antics. This unfortunately means that small things that seem like throwaway lines then come back with some significance later on, leaving you struggling to remember them and isolate their earlier usage. Ultimately this means that the ending lacks the emotional impact it deserves, with the the final poignant moment being the main character chocking on a raisin – an homage to an earlier, fairly forgettable and weak joke.

Pickle Jar, in conclusion, is a very accomplished and extremely funny debut play, with Maddie Rice demonstrating her fantastic skills as a comedic writer and skilled performer. Although, the audience may at times have to pay close attention to follow all the flashbacks and plot navigations, it is a pleasure just to sit and watch Rice jump from character to character, delivering big laughs from a script that has clearly been thought out and comedically timed. The eventual twist delivers a real emotional blow and touches on a serious issue that leaves you with the impression that, much like this performance, there is often more to people than meets the eye.

]]>Theory at Tarragonhttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/11/theory-at-tarragon/
Sat, 03 Nov 2018 22:12:07 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43681Norman Yeung’s Theory is an ambitious meditation on thorny and topical issues, from free speech in academia and society to race and representation in media. Isabelle, a proudly progressive film …

]]>Norman Yeung’s Theory is an ambitious meditation on thorny and topical issues, from free speech in academia and society to race and representation in media. Isabelle, a proudly progressive film professor, sets up an anonymous and self-moderated discussion board for her radical new syllabus. Students flood the forum with vicious comments and a campaign of hate soon targets Isabelle herself. Her desire to unmask her tormentor and continue her social experiment even as it collapses quickly overwhelms her professional and personal life.

One expects these themes to resonate with audiences in Toronto as the city’s self-image as a bastion of tolerance has landed it in the front line of the culture war over inclusivity and political correctness. Both Yeung and director Esther Jun note that they have updated the characters and content to reflect the changing zeitgeist, notably turning Isabelle’s partner Lee into a black woman and centring the plot around this. This gives her troll an obvious route for attacking Lee, escalating the tension between the couple that lies at the heart of the play and making both Isabelle and the audience more directly confront the implications of her project. In a strong cast, Audrey Dwyer’s portrayal of Lee is a highlight as she expresses the show’s moral voice with an emotional register that complements Sascha Cole’s more reserved Isabelle.

Both women are surprised at how quickly the forum sinks into the swamp. The audience has a right to be too. Anyone who spends much time online knows how toxic anonymous comments can be, but Isabelle’s refusal to consider moderation or listen to her spouse and students would be more credible and relatable if the hate escalated over time or there was productive discussion slowly being swallowed up. Instead, she seems like a crazed ideologue from the start and one wonders how someone as socially conscious as Lee was drawn to her at all. Cole’s early performance feeds into this concern but, as the play nears its big reveal, her descent into madness is compelling as viewers begin to share her doubts and set themselves up for the final blindside.

Isabelle’s students serve a mostly instrumental role as vessels for outrage, comic relief, or both, but the young actors all shine on stage. Kyle Orzech in particular handles a demanding role well, displaying the perfect level of earnest eagerness to make the audience drop its guard at just the wrong moment. Fabrizio Filippo has a short but memorable stint as disengaged department head Owen, rounding out the supporting cast.

The play concerns and relies on the use of language in ways that are hard to render vividly on a stage so Cameron Davis’ creative projections do important work here, reflecting the torrent of hate aimed at Isabelle onto the audience. The set design and lighting allow for easy transitions between Isabelle’s work and home lives and bring a sense of intimacy to the Tarragon’s Extraspace theatre, letting the audience feel like part of Isabelle’s sea of faceless students or voyeurs watching a lovers’ spat through the kitchen curtains.

In juggling many related but difficult political topics, Theory‘s treatment of them is inevitably a little shallow. The academic setting grounds the discussion of free speech, without exploring what is unique or salient about that setting. Isabelle’s absolutist take on moderation and disregard for boundaries are easy to lampoon while dodging the question of when students can and should reject more common material. Isabelle – and, by extension, her branch of the academic left – is targeted for forcing her ideas on others, but in Theory this manifests as mandatory exposure to all types of ideas rather than the suppression of politically incorrect material that supposedly drives this backlash in the real world. The play acknowledges that Isabelle’s style of progressive politics is largely performative but not in a way that would blunt those same criticisms when levelled at the play itself. In their notes both Yeung and Jun argue from a clearly and unashamedly liberal perspective while appearing to endorse a type of horseshoe theory, where any ‘extreme’ idea is diagnosed as part of the same pathology, as part of a plea for empathy and civility. Yet two of the main lessons from the play are that tolerance of intolerance won’t be repaid in kind, and that civility can be dangerous if it gives cover to toxic ideas or people. Theory is clearly intended to be thought-provoking, and it is, but it’s unclear what those thoughts are.

Despite that, Yeung’s work is worth a look – and the Herman Voaden Prize committee agrees.
With the help of a promising cast and smart production choices, the play succeeds – if not in theory, at least in practice.

]]>Small but Mighty: Saucy Jack and the Space Vixenshttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/11/small-but-mighty-saucy-jack-and-the-space-vixens/
Sat, 03 Nov 2018 21:46:46 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43682Part cabaret, part musical, Saucy Jack and the Space Vixens is a rowdy sci-fi romp — reminiscent of what a lovechild between Rocky Horror Picture Show and Barbarella would look …

]]>Part cabaret, part musical, Saucy Jack and the Space Vixens is a rowdy sci-fi romp — reminiscent of what a lovechild between Rocky Horror Picture Show and Barbarella would look like. Having been reproduced in both the US and in the UK, this Toronto iteration by Small but Mighty Productions serves it well, though the run was short (October 26th-28th). Buddies in Bad Times Theatre was a good choice of venue, lending a grittiness to the award winning musical.

Fluorescent coloured clothing and ripped fishnets, songs worshipping pleather and cheekily raunchy rhymes about oral sex were fleshed out by a fairly competent cast, though it seemed they needed some time to warm up as a few characters’ voices cracked or fell flat initially. Simple set design lent a downtrodden feel to Saucy Jack’s bar, brilliantly constructed by black-lit milk crates. A set of mics and some diligent sound engineers would have done the production wonders, as at times, even in the small room, backup singers would drown out the main vocalist, or their vocal projection wouldn’t quite cover the intimate space. There were a few powerhouse voices in the cast, but it was clear that not everyone was strong. Chances are high that if the run had been even a little longer, the cast could have warmed up better into their roles.

Saucy Jack’s character (Andrew Eldridge) in particular was cast very well for the part, and his powerful singing voice at times carried the show, but Sam Hancock’s amazing Chesty Prospects/Shirley Tri-Star double bill didn’t let him steal all of the limelight. Her space-scavenger swagger made her an early and lasting favourite throughout the run. Robbie Fention as Booby Shevalle deserves an honourable mention too, with the audience at the show clearly endeared by and rooting for the character the whole time.

The play had serious hilarity and entertainment values, with a tongue-in-cheek feminist slant and witty one-liners fit for a giggle or two. It’s clear as to why the original ’98 production was award winning. The central theme is a murder mystery — who is killing Saucy Jack’s talent? — but there’s funny elements interspersed. The main murder weapon, for example, is a slingback heeled shoe, and there are disco numbers with titles such as “All I Need is Disco,” and “Glitter Boots Saved My Life”. It’s a kinky, fun, and memorable jaunt through a funkier futuristic time.

]]>DanceWorks: The Art of Degenerationhttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/11/danceworks-the-art-of-degeneration/
Thu, 01 Nov 2018 22:01:24 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43668The proof is in the pudding is a strangely apt synopsis of The Art of Degeneration, a solo show by Louis Laberge-Côté. Why so? Because the climax of the show …

]]>The proof is in the pudding is a strangely apt synopsis of The Art of Degeneration, a solo show by Louis Laberge-Côté. Why so? Because the climax of the show is him dipping his hands in chocolate pudding and smearing it all over this body. But here is the crazy part: it is absolutely appropriate and well done. The proof is in the pudding and this pudding is good.

The show starts by defining degenerate, which is to fall below normal, and makes that its thesis. It moves between being a typical show with lighting and cues and dance technique, to being in shambles. Laberge-Côté scrutinizes the greatest nightmares of performers, forgetting the script and becoming injured on stage, and then proceeds to experience them. One of the things I like about good performances is that you become so enthralled, so engaged, that the rest of the audience melts away and you are alone. With The Art of Degeneration, Laberge-Côté took me into isolation, enthralment, and then smashed the fourth wall to remove my from my segregation. This was repeated over and over with a mastery of timing and an understanding of audience expectation.

The show made me question what is dance, which may seem like a foolish question as it is clearly marketed as a solo and Laberge-Côté is a dancer. And sure, there are moments of technique, lines, musicality, but this is presented within a framework of Laberge-Côté critiquing what is done on stage, mostly via text. The show balances order and chaos, pretentiousness and self awareness, absurdity and tradition, using the extremes to find harmony and tension. At it’s heart, Laberge-Côté uses his vast knowledge of form to deconstruct it. But in dismantling dance, criticizing it without judging it as being good or bad, does the work still remain as dance?

It is also highly academic, catering to an audience with a background in performance, while being accessible to those naive to the form. Laberge-Côté has a subtle way of planting a seed, letting it seep into the subconscious and then bring it back as a new idea while building on the first presentation of it. For example, he tells the Marie Antoinette story and then continually builds over the course of the show until he is dressed as her and then naked for a brilliant guillotine moment. Or he has what seems like a passing remarks about historical nudes once being considered scandalous, salacious, and grotesque, only to later pose as these historical women. The detail is outstanding.

The complexity of this show makes it one that should be watched more than once. It will make you think and it will make you feel. Go for the art and stay for the pudding.

]]>Hannah Moscovitch & Maev Beaty’s Secret Lifehttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/11/secret-life/
Thu, 01 Nov 2018 21:56:23 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43669Secret Life of a Mother at the Theatre Centre is a stunning exploration of the raw, invisible, and gritty realities of two women’s experiences of parenthood. Created by Hannah Moscovitch, …

]]>Secret Life of a Mother at the Theatre Centre is a stunning exploration of the raw, invisible, and gritty realities of two women’s experiences of parenthood.

Created by Hannah Moscovitch, Maev Beaty, Ann-Marie Kerr, and Marinda de Beer, the narrative centres on Moscovitch’s early experiences with motherhood, performed as a solo show by Beaty. The arc spans miscarriage to parenting a young child, interspersed with Beaty’s own experiences in which she breaks character and speaks directly to the audience. Their real-life friendship is part of the story, so the shifts are organic, as though the audience is having dinner with both women and each interjecting her own story to validate and augment the other’s.

The content is confessional, rooted in specific, personal experiences, but the larger significance shouldn’t be underestimated. Their aim is to reveal a glimpse of the underbelly of motherhood, the kinds of things women don’t feel comfortable sharing due to narrow cultural ideals of motherhood. To gestate life, we are told, is a beautiful irreplaceable experience that is meant to nourish and fulfill you, and yet is an intense bodily process over which you almost no control. It fundamentally changes your life, and in some respects, you. But what do you do with the parts of you that don’t change? What do you do when you feel alienated instead of fulfilled? What do you do when you want to keep working, despite its detractions from your parental responsibilities?

Beaty is known for her compelling performances, but this show lays bare her ability to perform for a crowd of hundreds while giving you the impression she is speaking to each of us personally. Her shifts between portraying Moscovitch and speaking as herself, for example, are explicit but not clumsy. I had initial reservations about Beaty’s show-and-tell approach to her slideshow, but it ultimately feels well-suited to the tone of the production. My only criticism is that I suspect those at the back of the theatre might appreciate larger screens. Camellia Koo’s set is sparse but effective, consisting of a chair, a small water tank and a large one. The tanks facilitate occasional projections (designed by Cameron Davis), while embodying the central tension in the play as they alternately evoke wombs and cages.

Secret Life of a Mother is both a refreshingly honest account of motherhood, and a strikingly sophisticated piece of theatre. Regardless of your parental status, you won’t want to miss this show.

]]>The War Party at Fringe NYChttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/10/the-war-party/
Wed, 31 Oct 2018 05:25:51 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43656The current political climate has stirred many a playwright to tackle political themes and motifs in indie theater productions, and Vincent Delaney’s The War Party seems sprung from the brutal politics playing …

]]> The current political climate has stirred many a playwright to tackle political themes and motifs in indie theater productions, and Vincent Delaney’s The War Party seems sprung from the brutal politics playing out on the American landscape and the politicians wielding words as weapons to the detriment the country as a whole. Presenting a play about a Republican protagonist to a New York audience is a bold choice, especially when said protagonist is immediately outed as a possible racist and homophobic bigot, but the play does not suffer inherently from this perspective. Rather, it is the playwrights heavy handed way of exposing her lead character as a bigot at the outset and then attempts to persuade the audience to empathize and sympathize with her that prevents the play from conveying any deeper messages.

The War Party opens on an abandoned celebration – red and blue decorations litter the floor along with glossy campaign posters. Jessie, a college-aged volunteer returns to the party to snag a keepsake from the campaign, when she is confronted by Republican candidate Laura who is getting progressively drunker by herself following a dismal loss to her Democratic contender. After convincing Jessie to join her in her booze binge, Jessie proceeds to explain to Laura why she lost the campaign – opining on everything from Laura’s unwillingness to debate her opponent, her hair style and her refusal to speak publicly about her daughter’s death. Laura retorts with bitter and hurtful retorts, tearing the young volunteer apart (in the process, making numerous bigoted comments at her leisure and insisting on toasting the GOP). She is vile, moody, frustrating and it is difficult to see why Jessie continues to come back for more and more personal attacks by the candidate who she spent months aiding. As the play progresses, the candidate begins to let her guard down and, in doing so, reveals some painful truths about her family and herself that lead both Jessie and Laura to wrestle with frustrating reality of confronting a deteriorating political system or escaping from it.

While The War Party delves into the toxic world of American politics, with its win at all costs mantra and paralyzing effect on actual governance, the play sets itself up for failure from the outset. Laura epitomizes a political villain (at least, in a pre-2016 world) — a bigoted and condescending woman who belittles Jessie and becomes downright violent towards her. While Delaney tries to add complexity to the character by revealing the recent suicide of Laura’s daughter and a life-threatening illness, these layers do little to absolve the woman of her odious past transgressions. None of this is aided by the fact that Laura’s daughter apparently disposed her mother and her mother’s political views, leaving the audience to consider just how big a role Laura had in her daughter’s suicide. The playwright uses an apparition of Franklin Delano Roosevelt to draw out Laura’s insecurities and feelings about her political future, but the exchanges between the two characters are somewhat confused. Is FDR meant to be Laura’s conscience? An angel of death? A trickster devil trying to lure her to an early end? The choice to have Jessie ultimately reveal herself as an NPR reporter struggling to get her first big story isan interesting plot twist but by the end of the narrative, it is difficult to see why Delaney would resolve to help and put her faith in the abusive Laura.

The small ensemble displays a great deal of talent in The War Party, maintaining the emotional whirlwind of a show with hot tempers, explosive confrontations and quiet reflections. Jennifer Piech draws laughs from the audience despite Laura’s oft-obnoxoius demeanor, and she does a nice job of bringing out Laura’s vulnerability and inner turmoil, but she hits a level of angry hysteria very early in the production that becomes exhausting. Odelia Avadi carefully balances Jessie’s apparent naivety with an aggressive self-assurance that can combat Laura’s verbal jabs. William Youman rounds out the small cast with a delightfully convincing take as President FDR – genuine, stately and charismatic.

Ultimately, The War Party attempts to explore the political climate, and, perhaps, even suggest an (albeit unrealistic) solution to the fractions tearing the country apart, but the characters must themselves be less polarizing for the audience to internalize the message.

]]>American Carnage at Fringe NYChttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/10/american-carnage/
Wed, 31 Oct 2018 05:21:52 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43660It is one of the cultural responsibilities of art and entertainment to reflect on and help us make some sense of current events and contemporary trends shaping our cultural discourse. …

]]>It is one of the cultural responsibilities of art and entertainment to reflect on and help us make some sense of current events and contemporary trends shaping our cultural discourse. Recently, the expansive world of independent theatre in New York City has certainly stepped up to do its job in this; producing an expansive array of work that examines many culturally-relevant topics, among them; racial and sexual identity, domestic abuse and sexual assault, misogyny, nationalism, and the relation between personal morality, corruption, and its weaponization to influence society. While such work is commendable and valuable, I admit to a certain mental fatigue in response to it all. Simply being aware of national news can cast a pervasive dispiriting shadow, and under that shadow I find myself increasingly hesitant to walk into a theatre in order to sign up for more of it. And so, I admit to walking into American Carnage: A Solo Staged Reading of Select Screenplays by Stephen K. Bannon, Zack Mast’s one-man show at the New York International Fringe Festival, with some reticence, bracing myself for another depressing reminder that intolerance and white nationalism are being given an ever-louder voice in our national discourse.

I was fortunate however, as is any audience privileged enough to see Zack Mast’s cleverly written and smartly performed show, to find that American Carnage is not the affirmation of discouragement that I feared. The show is not so much about Stephen K. Bannon and his often unsavory ideology, as it is a story about an author struggling to give voice and find an audience for a message that he believes in, satirically framed as Mr. Bannon’s story. It’s a show better described as political-adjacent, rather than politically focused, and helpfully avoids judging the politics at-hand in favor of instead using them as backdrop for Mast’s wry comedic voice and clever storytelling. The show expertly navigates and oscillates along the line between fiction and truth, interweaving hyperbolized fiction and naked fact with a wink and a side-mouthed smile. Mast brings a host of comedic skill-sets to the stage; the quick wit of an improviser, the charisma and confidence of a showman, and the intelligent and surprising narrative structure of a writer and satirist. While Mast’s choice of character is not necessarily a likeable or admirable one, Mast himself somehow maintains his likeability and charisma as a performer throughout. We benefit from the charm of the actor, despite the foulness of the character.

With a running time of only forty-five minutes, the show moves briskly, and develops in a way that gives the illusion of predictability, but surprises at every turn. It is a show that fully fleshes out its narrative and its comedic potential, while not pushing the envelope with filler-content. It disarms your preconceived mental boundaries regarding the subject matter at hand, keeps your interest, keeps you laughing, and sends you off feeling grateful that someone out there is doing comedic work like this; relevant without being preachy, substantive without being bluntly moralistic, written thoughtfully and performed believably.

The show has finished its run at the Fringe NYC, but Zack Mast’s work can be seen on his website zackmast.com. Whatever his next project is, American Carnage serves as a promising example that recommends any work he may author or perform henceforth.

]]>Soulpepper’s Royalehttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/10/soulpepper-royale/
Tue, 30 Oct 2018 03:18:09 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43645The audience is silent and still. A dim light contours a man in boxing gloves and shorts, his slightly bent head and shoulders gleaming with sweat. There is a ripple …

]]>The audience is silent and still. A dim light contours a man in boxing gloves and shorts, his slightly bent head and shoulders gleaming with sweat. There is a ripple of anticipation as he takes a deep breath, lifting gloved fists — in that moment, the figure is both the bow drawn taut and the arrow about to fly.

In an era where race is a hard, nearly visible line, Jay Jackson (Dion Johnstone) does not only have to fight with his fists, but with the very colour of his skin. With a determined eye on becoming a heavyweight boxing champion, he reaches for a prize that no black man has reached before, and with that bears the weight of over 200 years of segregation and racism. Though he trains with his mentor Wynton (Alexander Thomas) and a young-and-upcoming boxer Fish (Christef Desir), he is taught that every man fights alone in the ring.

The Royale, a Soulpepper production by playwright Marco Ramirez, is a poignant and tension-filled exploration of a boxing match loosely based on the actual fighting career of Jack Johnson. Over the course of six rounds, we catch a glimpse into the thoughts, fears, and lessons given to him by family and peers on his journey toward the heavyweight champion title

Ken MacKenzie‘s set design is simple and as rough as the era the play takes place in, tailored to look like a boxing ring of old. With minimal music, the play is driven seamlessly by its characters – often, we hear Wynton and Nina’s voice carrying through Jay’s mind, almost an equal opponent his fight as the men before him. Good pacing and smart dialogue makes The Royale shine. Though the characters fight with no actual physical exchanges, each actor on opposite sides of the stage, we get an opportunity to see the internal battles as well as outer, physical ones. When Jay swings, Fish flinches as if struck, stumbling back. When Fish strikes, we can see Jay dodge effortlessly. It makes for a beautiful and bloodless interpretation of each round and allows for running commentary of each character’s thoughts and struggles.

Jay Jackson is confidently at home in the ring, and Johnstone comfortably embodies his swaggering confidence. He adopts Fish as a sparring partner after getting a sense for the young man’s blossoming boxing talent, and their playful roughhousing breaks a few moments of tension with subtle artfulness. One gets the sense that the Jackson doesn’t think much of his effect on the Americans watching his rise to the top. The same selfish, single-mindedness that helps him achieve his dreams is also responsible for his almost complete ignorance to the racial tension that builds around him, and it is an ignorance that costs not only him, but his family and friends. When his sister Nina comes to visit him, played by the well-poised Sabryn Rock, her fearful words echo in his mind later as he squares off against the previous heavyweight champion and adds to the tension of what exactly he stands to lose to the wrath of the public by daring to fight in a white man’s world.

Jay Jackson’s white promoter Max (Diego Matamoros) is filled with these same prejudices, the script reflecting these deeply ingrained and poorly attributed ideas that seem to slip out of him without him noticing. At one point he compares Jackson to an animal in what is surely meant to be complimentary, but only starkly expresses his own internal racist ideas of even the man who indirectly puts food on his table. We get a sharp taste of what was considered acceptable lines of query toward a black man when Matamoros steps lightly into the shoes of various news reporters, firing questions that would elicit angry gasps and murmurs from today’s crowd.

The Royale is a splendid play, and a must-see even for those who aren’t boxing fans. With a strong script and a startling denouement, viewers will be drawn into a story that perfectly encapsulates bittersweet victory.

]]>The Toronto Irish Players’ Dancing at Lughnasahttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/10/lughnasa/
Tue, 30 Oct 2018 03:04:54 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43646Exploring the distance between what appears to be true and what actually is, Dancing at Lughnasa is a bittersweet memory play about five sisters in depression-era Donegal. Set in 1936, when Michael …

]]>Exploring the distance between what appears to be true and what actually is, Dancing at Lughnasa is a bittersweet memory play about five sisters in depression-era Donegal. Set in 1936, when Michael is just seven years old, the play juxtaposes Michael’s overwhelmingly positive memories of the last summer his family spent together with his adult self’s reflection on the fates of his mother, four aunts, and uncle.

The Toronto Irish Players production presents Michael as the quintessential unreliable narrator. Seated in the audience before the play begins, Michael quite literally steps out from the audience and onto the stage, indicating that everything the audience is about to witness is seen through his eyes. Yet by his own admission, the memories that Michael recalls most keenly are of the first wireless radio his family owns and the return of his uncle, Father Jack, from Rwanda. There is a sense that Dancing at Lughnasa is not a factual account, but Michael filling the gaps in his half-remembered childhood with what he’s imagined or been told after the fact in order to come to terms with the family members he’s lost. David Eden’s direction cleverly draws attention to the fact that Michael often isn’t even in the room when conversations between the Mundy sisters are taking place. He positions Michael on stage, yet shows him building kites on his own and paying little attention to his mother and aunts in the kitchen.

Michael (Enda Reilly) is an affable host for the evening’s guided tour through his childhood, and Reilly is equally adept at playing the wide-eyed, kite-building seven-year-old version of his character. I particularly enjoyed his scenes with Rebecca De La Cour, who plays spirited homemaker Aunt Maggie with a wicked sense of humour and an optimistic outlook on life.

The other sisters are also believably rendered. Donna O’Regan brings a subtle sadness to the role of Agnes, the most introverted of the Mundys, and has a lovely rapour with simple-minded, fanciful sister Rose (Áine Donnelly), and Erin Jones is appropriately set apart from the others as god-fearing eldest sister Kate, who acts as the matriarch of the family and keeps them afloat with her modest teacher’s wage. It’s Lauren McGuinty who really shines though, portraying Christina’s repressed affection for her unreliable beau (and Michael’s father) Gerry, and the conflict between the practical single mother who knows better than to get her hopes up, and the romantic young woman who still wants to believe.

The choreography is not particularly skilled, nor is its execution, yet scenes of the Mundy sisters dancing show such joyful abandon as they, just for a moment, break free of the patriarchal and religious constraints placed on them by society and enjoy themselves.

The creative team deserves a great deal of credit for seamlessly bringing rural Ireland to life. Set Designer Chandos Ross’ faithful reproduction of a small 1930s farmhouse kitchen, Livia Pravato’s period costumes, and Karlos Griffith’s lighting choices, which separate Michael’s lively childhood memories from the tableau of his adult narration, all add to the production’s strong sense of place.

Dancing at Lughnasa is not without its flaws. Jones and Donnelly don’t always have the dialect down (at times their Ulster accents sound more Scottish than Irish) and The Toronto Irish Players production is perhaps too subtle in its foreshadowing of hardship to come, but the camaraderie between cast members is keenly felt and the performances are believable. Effectively portraying tensions between the religious and the secular and between change and stability, the Toronto Irish Players’ Dancing at Lughnasa is a quietly compelling character-driven drama that’s well worth a watch.

]]>The LOT’s Producers– A Conversationhttps://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/2018/10/the-lots-producers-a-conversation/
Sat, 27 Oct 2018 03:50:38 +0000https://www.myentertainmentworld.ca/?p=43642As part of the Fall 2018 programme, the Lower Ossington Theatre has mounted The Producers! Any chance to see this show in any form should be taken – totally hilarious, …

As part of the Fall 2018 programme, the Lower Ossington Theatre has mounted The Producers! Any chance to see this show in any form should be taken – totally hilarious, pithy, and self-referential, it’s a wonderful show for those well versed in Musical Theatre. However, the nature of the show itself is also great for first-time viewers, as they will be able to take in the performance in all of its big-sound grapevine showgirl glory.

After a performance on Friday, October 12, My Entertainment World reviewers Amy Strizic and Alisha MacLean sat down to have a chat about the show:

What did you think of the theatre setting for this production?Amy Strizic: It was nice to have a traditional proscenium stage for a classical musical like The Producers. The name-in-lights bulbs around the edges of the stage worked well and gave a lovely old Hollywood vibe to the show. It definitely took a little getting used to seeing the performers so close. It was a little disarming to have them dancing 10 feet away, belting their hearts out and looking you right in the eyeballs, but by the end of the show I enjoyed the intimate atmosphere, knowing we were all in on the same jokes.

Alisha MacLean: From the rolling stage-props that made for quick-fade scenery switches to the beads of sweat visible on the performers’ brows, I loved that intimate feel so much! Being fully immersed like that is what makes Lower Ossington Theatre such a great venue for this show. You really feel the laughs from the audience, even as a member – I bet it’s an incredible place to perform.

What stood out for you as a success? An aspect that didn’t land as intended?AM: The choreography was tight, entertaining, and blended a few different styles of movement in a way that was engaging and entertaining. The costuming was very well done and most embarrassingly, I found myself humming ‘Springtime for Hitler’ on my way home! The ‘ogle the Swedish secretary!’ bit is a little dated to me, but forgivable due to the original work.

AS: I agree, the sexism as part of the show felt a little off, but I like how it’s turned around to be more referential to that being an outdated mode of entertainment as well. For me, the biggest success of the show was how the cast carried the comedy. The audience was tittering in the beginning, and there were full-out laughs by the end. Each cast member contributed to the overall effect, and it proved to be a great ensemble show. The only other thing I found a little lacking was the sound mixing – the recording of the music was very quiet throughout the show. The performers reached far beyond the music volume with their vocals, causing a slight disjointed effect at times.

Tell me a little about some highlights from the performers.AS: Oh! The woman who played Franz Liebkind, nazi sympathizer/playwright! She was stunning. Shalyn McFaul, she absolutely stole each scene she was in. Perfect for the role with an accent just almost incomprehensible, she was totally lovely. I also applaud the Ensemble ladies, especially when dressed as the old ladies. Such a laugh.

AM: Those Ensemble ladies! I agree, they were such a nice touch that was used often, but to good effect. My favourite character was Bloom. His hysterical outbursts were so well done! Hugh Ritchie really nailed the tone and the physical comedy between himself and Bialystock (Benjamin Todd) showed some really good chemistry. Whenever they were both on the set, I just knew it would be a great time.

Any parting thoughts?AS: Well, I absolutely loved it. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect in a small theatre performance of a pretty major musical, but the cast and crew nailed it. Great talent from all performers, and clear passion on the stage. Highly recommended for anyone, and a lovely show for a lighthearted evening.

AM: I second that, Amy. It’s a raucous blast, energetic and well-executed. What a great night out!